


Unwanted

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Deacon can't admit his feelings so Nora leaves, Deacon is the father, F/M, Far Harbor Settlement (Fallout), Nora is pregnant, Unplanned Pregnancy, years later they find each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22590316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: Nora finds out that she's pregnant and Deacon is the father. Upon admitting her feelings for her partner, he turns her down, unaware that she's carrying his child. Unable to handle the rejection, Nora leaves for Far Harbor, with no intentions of returning.Years later, a chance meeting has the two forced to confront their issues from before she left, including the child Deacon didn't know he had.
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 81





	Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

On her fourth day of throwing up her partially digested breakfast, Nora realizes that she can no longer ignore her condition. The mood swings, the one’s causing her friends to talk to her like she’s made of glass, the weight gain even as she crosses the full length of the Commonwealth nearly every week, the tenderness of her breast, and of course the inability to hold her food, they all point to one thing: she’s pregnant.

At least there’s no doubt to the father. The only man she’s been with since the bombs fell, the only person she would ever let into her bed. Her friend, confidant, and partner.

Seven months were spent with Deacon and her dancing around each other, torn between the losses of their respective spouses, undeniable mutual attraction, and a fear of losing another person that they cared about. Aided by the help of a monumental victory against the Institute and some strong whiskey, their fears and doubt were thrown aside long enough to let down their guard and be with each other like they both so desperately wanted.

Following their evening spent together, nothing changed, they continued to run missions together, rebuilding the Commonwealth and protecting the newly freed synths that were scattered when the teleporter room exploded. Nora was both grateful and heart broke. Grateful because she half expected to wake up the following morning to hear that he had disappeared, gone once the vulnerability of his actions became apparent. Heart broken because she could no longer pretend, nor could he pretend, that there wasn’t something between them.

Sex was one thing, even if she hadn’t had it with anyone else since stumbling out of her cryo-pod, but what they had done wasn’t that. There were feelings, loving kisses, gentle caresses, quietly whispered words that betrayed the love, the devotion, that they had for each other. His own words had wrapped around her, usually tinted with jokes and lies, instead they praised her, complimented her, told her things she was sure he couldn’t even tell himself.

And yet the next day he made no mention of the sweet nothings they had shared, only handed her her some purified water and let her know that Desdemona had a mission for them.

Now, six weeks later, one period missed, four days of morning sickness, Nora can no longer lie to herself. What kind of luck does she have that the first time that she has sex in 200 years, she gets pregnant?

She thought she would be happy, and maybe in different circumstances she would. When the institute fell and Shaun died, she thought her chance to be a mother was gone forever, and that hurt. But she also knew that if she was going to have a baby with anyone, she would pick Deacon.

Her wish came true, but instead of elation, fear dances through her chest, making her feel more sick than the embryo inside of her ever could. If Deacon can’t even acknowledge their night together, his feelings for her, would he stay after learning that she’s carrying his child? That thought fills her with shame, he’s not that kind of man. Nora knows this, knows that he wouldn’t abandon her, or their child. But does she want that? Does she want him to stay simply because of the life they created together? No. She wants him to hold her every night, like he did then. Wants to know that he stays with her because he loves her, because he wants to be by her side as more than just her partner.

She wipes a hand across her mouth and reaches for her water. Her options dance inside her mind as she forces herself to drink through the nausea. 

If she forces him to confront his feelings, will he run? It’s the only way for her to know, to confirm that he’d stay for her, and not just because she’s with child. She pictures him leaving, and barely turns quick enough to heave into the toilet once again.

///

“I love you.”

Deacon’s heart thuds harshly and his focus down the scope on his rifle falters, the raider he had been looking at moves from his view, he’s lost the shot. He pulls back from his weapon, all thoughts of the mission screeching to a halt. Instead they’re replaced by the memory of her lips on his, her skin under his fingers, her heated breath against his ears as she said those same words.

His eyes are still on his rifle, the lack of light means he wouldn’t be able to see her face anyways, but he feels more in control avoiding her stare. It’s been weeks since they took out the Institute, celebrated with liquor and each other’s bodies. Since he gave in and let himself fall into her like he had imagined, had craved, for months. And only now does she say something. Why wait? What wait until he’s a breath away from starting a fire fight, in the middle of the night, weeks after they silently agreed to not say anything?

He doesn’t have the answers, so he does what he does best. “Did you make a bet with Maccready that you could make me miss a shot?” He finally gathers the courage to turn to her. “Because you’ll have to try harder if you want to startle me.” The words turn to ash as hurt crosses her face. In a second it’s gone, but he saw, he’s too good to not have. The regret settles heavy on his chest, suffocating him. He wants to apologize, but he can’t.

There are reasons why he pretended like nothing had happened between them, even as his entire being begs to touch her again, hold her, hear her gasp out his name as he mouths at her neck. And fuck, he needs to focus. He can’t think about why he wants to fall into her again, he needs to keep his head on straight.

Nora, who refuses to use her code name now that the Institute is gone, turns from him, breaking their eye contact. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

It hurts to see her hurt because of him, his words, his actions, but it’s for the better. If she just… forgets that night things will be okay. They’ll be friends and partners again, and maybe if things settle down he’ll stop dreaming of her. Stop having nightmares about her. Stop thinking about her every second he’s awake and asleep, unable to escape her draw.

Even as pain dances inside of him he relaxes when she turns away, no longer being forced into a conversation he doesn’t know how to have. With her confrontational nature tabled, he goes to turn back to his rifle, re-focus his shot, but then she speaks again.

“No, actually, don’t forget it.” Nora forces his attention back towards her, and Deacon knows what’s coming, can’t do anything to stop it. “I love you, Deacon, and I’m sick and tired of pretending that that night never happened.”

There’s pain still reflected in her face, but it’s overshadowed by determination. “If you don’t really feel how you said you did then, then fine. But I can’t be your partner anymore, I can’t…” she tears her eyes away from his own. “I can’t keep lying to myself.”

Deacon’s heart is thudding inside his chest, and while rationally he knows that she can’t hear it, it still has him worried that maybe his own organs will betray himself, expose how nervous he is to actually be confronted. This is the decision he was trying to avoid, he shoved aside his feelings and wants so that him and Nora could go back to being the best Railroad partnership in the Commonwealth. Being forced into a confrontation isn’t something he would have ever expected her to do, she knows him, more than anyone else, and she should know by now that this is only going to send him running.

He wonders what it is that’s sending her over the edge.

“Nora-”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “If you’re gonna spew some bullshit, or talk your way out of this, then just keep it to yourself.” She won’t look at him, and he can hear the thickness of emotion in her voice. “Either you want this, you want me, or you don’t. It’s a yes or a no, not a maybe or an if. I can’t… those aren’t good enough anymore.”

Maybe there’s someone else? Half the men and women in the Minutemen are in love with Nora, and he’s pretty sure he can name off half a dozen of her normal traveling partners that would give her exactly what she’s asking for. Maybe one of them approached her, and now she’s making him step up to bat. It’s his choice whether he strikes out, or gets a homerun.

He doesn’t know what to do.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind that he loves her, that everything he whispered to her that night was true. But baring his soul was only possible because he was high on victory and drunk, both on the feeling of her when she kissed him, and the whiskey they had been sharing between them. Now, completely sober and caught off guard, he struggles, grasping at something he can say to push back this conversation. To maybe make it so that they never have to finish it.

Lady luck shines on him, because just as he goes to speak, deflect, try something, anything, to tear her focus from him, an explosion from the raider camp they had been sent to clear rings through the air, forcing them both to drop behind cover to protect themselves from shrapnel. Instinctively, Deacon pulls Nora down covering the back of her head with his hand. Better that he takes injury there, than she loses her life. He feels her tense as soon as the contact is made, but she doesn’t push him away, smart enough to know that even though she’s mad at him, survival is more important.

There’s shouting from the raiders as they swarm away from their hideout, looking for the enemies that rained down a series of rocket attacks onto them.

“We need to get out of here.”

The only people with that kind of firepower left are the Gunners and the Minutemen, and Nora confirmed with Preston that there were no patrols in the area before they left. As it stands, they’re not equipped to deal with Gunners right now, so the only option is to leave, come back once they’ve got another heavy, or a better plan of attack.

“I agree, let’s move.” Nora is blunt, speaking only enough to agree, and then she’s off, flicking on a stealthboy and disappearing into the woodline before Deacon can even hop onto his feet. He follows after her, flicking on his own stealthboy in the process, and heads off for their bugout point down the hill. She’s waiting for him, twirling a pack of cigarettes in her hand, but not actually pulling one out to light it.

The sounds of battle are far away, they’re no longer in any real danger. They should head back to HQ, work with Dez to set up an attack.

“We should-”

“What’s it going to be Deacon?” Nora cuts him off, looking at him with a harshness that would have a lesser man withering. “I want an answer, a real one, because I’ll take silence or jokes as a rejection.”

He shivers, even though the night air is warm her voice is cold, an attempt at remaining detached from the situation. He sees right through it, but that doesn’t mean he’s figured out what to say yet. Her eyes are piercing as she watches him, and finally after he’s silent for too long, they turn distant. She throws the pack of cigarettes his way, and he barely catches them in time.

“I’m going back to HQ, don’t follow me.” She stops walking for a second says, “and don’t come looking for me either,” before she heads off again. Leaving Deacon struggling for his next move.

///

Deacon doesn’t return to HQ for two more days. If anyone asks him why it took him so long, he’ll say he was running down some intel, and got distracted. Really, he’s just trying to make sure Nora isn’t there when he comes back. He’s desperate to find her, and to reconcile, but she’ll need time to calm down, to forgive him.

Which she will, she’ll forgive him, she always does. And when he thinks enough time has passed, he’ll find her, and everything will be okay again. It has to be.

He doesn’t really think he can live without her, and even the last two days have made him feel wrong. Like a part of him is missing. And he regrets, of course he does. He wishes he could turn back time, tell her how he really feels. But in the moment he still didn’t know how he really felt, what he really wanted.

Seeing her walk away really cleared it all up.

And he’ll tell her, even if it feels like he’s flaying himself alive. Because she deserves to know, and it might kill him to see her with someone else. Also, he’s a little selfish, and he wants to be the only person she’s touching, the only person she’s kissing. But for now he has to wait, because approaching her now will only make things worse. So he’ll distract himself with some Railroad work, and then he’ll track down his partner.

Since the destruction of the Institute, the Railroad has been downsizing. The need for tourists is nearly extinct, and only a few agents are required to help the synths now that they’re not being hunted at every turn. So, when he finally makes it back, the catacombs are empty, and the main room is quiet. There’s a few people mingling about, Tinker Tom, Dez, Carrington. People that don’t really have anywhere else to go, no family or friends left to speak of.

As soon as he steps through the doorway, the conversation stops, and everyone looks at him.

“Hey guys, long time no see, how you been?” He forces himself to be casual, he can tell they know something happened, that he and Nora had a fight or a falling out, but there’s no need to address the elephant in the room.

“Deacon,” Desdemona says, “we were wondering when you’d return.”

He shrugs and leans forward on the circular concrete slab they use as a table. “You know me, always popping in and out at will.”

Des and Carringotn share a look that makes him nervous, a little queasy, before Carrington speaks. “What did you do, Deacon?”

“What do you mean, doc?”

Anger flashes, quick as a whip. “What the hell did you do to Agent Charmer? She came here, took on a mission, and declared that she was a solo agent and would no longer be working with you.”

Deacon sighs, looks like he’s not getting out of this explanation. “We had an argument, nothing serious, I swear. She’ll calm down, I’ll apologize, and everything will be peaches and cream again.”

Suddenly, Desdemona looks pained, guilty. “She’s not coming back, Deacon, not for a long time.” At his confused look, she clarifies, “she took the Far Harbor mission. She’ll be gone for at least a year.”

Deacon feels the floor drop out from under him.

///

Over the course of the next few years Deacon fades. He still works with the Railroad, too cowardly to leave it behind, but he hates the looks he gets from the people there that remember Nora, that remember how he fractured when she left, how he broke when she didn’t return when the mission was complete, how he crumpled when he couldn’t find her in Far Harbor. No one knows where she is, he checked with everyone he thought might have come into contact with her. Piper and Maccready, Nick Valentine, Preston, Hancock, all the leaders of the Minutemen settlements, a few Railroad contacts that had left after the Institute’s collapse. None of them had heard from her, none of them knew if she was even still alive.

He goes to Far Harbor, tries to be inconspicuous, but some asshole named Allen tells him to fuck off, that if Nora wanted to see him she would find him. That if he ever comes back they’ll make sure he leaves with a few broken bones. Leaving Far Harbor breaks his heart, but he doesn’t want to hurt Nora anymore than he already has.

Now, as he works his way through an abandoned building near Goodneighbor, he wonders if he’ll ever stop thinking about her. If he’ll ever stop loving her. Or if he’ll die with yet another regret tearing at his soul. Marking him as a failure even when he’s gone.

The stairs to the next level are damaged and he hoists himself up to avoid potentially collapsing through them. The exertion leaves him a little breathless, he was already pushing fifty when Nora left, and now he’s well past his prime. He wonders what she looks like now. Will she be graying yet? He never knew how old she was, wasn’t important, didn’t really matter, but now he has nothing else to do but think on the things he may never know.

The first room he turns into is the kitchen, clearly currently in use. There’s cans of food, a few boxes of snack cakes, a whole row of purified water. He’s an invader into someone’s home- hopefully they’re away. He’ll have to tell PAM that this place is occupied, that they’ll have to find somewhere else to house the remaining agents and synths. Even after all these years they still can’t fend for themselves, leaving Deacon to either babysit or find homes for them.

Being around people makes him sick, so he always chooses the latter.

He’s turning back towards the hallway, to leave before he gets caught, when a woman with a gun appears, barrel pointed right at him.

His heart stops, but it doesn’t stop from fear, it stops in recognition.

He knows that gun, he gave it to her. Knows those eyes, sees them in his dreams. Recognizes that scar on her cheek, he watched her get it.

“Charmer?”

Nora’s eyes widen, surprise and shock filling them as she looks over his face. It’s been almost four and a half years, and she looks mostly the same. Her dirty blonde hair is shorter, cut just above her shoulders, and it’s lighter, bleached from exposure to the sun. Still, even with those differences, if she put on her vault suit, he might be able to convince himself that no time has passed, and that she never left.

That his actions didn’t send her across the ‘Wealth to get away from him.

She lowers the gun as recognition floods her face, and then from down the hall, he hears a voice call out. “Mom, who’s there?” It sounds like a boy, her child if the question is anything to go by.

There’s hesitation as she turns from him, like she’s not sure he can be trusted, and that hurts. It’s been a few years, but he’d never do anything to hurt her, not physically at least. He’s most certainly hurt her emotionally, even if that’s not what he wanted. “It’s.. an old friend, honey, but stay there okay?”

“A friend? Mommy I want to meet them!” The sound of small footsteps echo across the floor, and Nora’s face goes pale. Her eyes dart over to look at him and then dart away. In the next second a small child runs around the corner, nearly knocking into Nora’s leg in his haste. She hardly moves, frozen as she looks between them with increasing fear.

Immediately his attention is drawn to the child, and what he sees has him reeling. He’s young, about four if Deacon were to guess an age. He has pale skin dotted with freckles, and he nearly reaches Nora’s hip in height. He thought that maybe it was a child Nora adopted during her travels, but the similarities in their faces is too similar for it to be a coincidence. But what really catches him off-guard is the blue eyes, and the strawberry blonde hair.

Upon seeing him the child smiles wide. “Hello! My name is Thomas. What’s yours?”

His voice comes out a little broken, a little questioning. He’s telling the truth before he can even think to lie. “My name is Deacon.”

He hasn’t gone by that name in nearly three years now, but he didn’t bother to change his face. Too attached to it, scared that this exact situation would happen and Nora wouldn’t recognize him. Now he’s wishing he had.

As soon as he says the name Thomas’ smile falters and he frowns. “Deacon?” He tilts his head up to look at his mother. “Isn’t he-“

Nora unthaws from her frozen stance and cuts Thomas off quickly. “Now is not the time, sweetie, would you please go back to your room?” The child looks like he wants to argue, put up a fight, but a small, nearly silent, “please”, has him nodding and dashing out of the room.

Leaving just the two of them, alone, for the first time in more than four years. Even with the introduction of a child, and what exactly that means - is it his, it certainly looks like it, or has she moved on, found someone else - he still wants to reach out and hold her. Apologize for everything, for turning her down. He wants to repent for the biggest regret of his life.

There hasn’t been a day where he hasn’t thought about her, and killed himself with the ‘what ifs’. Rehearsed and practiced all the things he would say to her if he ever saw her again. But this new development has him forgetting everything he ever wanted to say.

Instead, he fumbles, blurts out the one question he’s desperate to know the answer to. “Is he mine?”

The guilt that flashes at his statement cements what he was already certain was the answer. They looked too similar for him to draw any other conclusion, and it wasn't as if they had waited to find what passed for protection all those years ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Nora’s shoulders sag and all the energy seems to sap out of her. “Would that have really changed anything, Deacon? You didn’t - don’t feel the same. You would have done the right thing and stuck around, I know you would have.” She lets out a heavy sigh, like what she has to say next takes everything she has left. “But I couldn’t stay knowing that the only reason you would be there was for him, not for me.”

Deacon thinks he might be angry, at himself or her he’s not really sure yet. She should have told him, given him at least that much. When he told her about Barbara he knows for a fact that he told her they were trying for kids, that they were going to start a family. And yet she kept his own child from him? On the other hand he gets it. Being forced to be around someone you love, knowing that those feelings aren’t returned- no. Being around someone who returns those feelings but is too much of a coward to ever be vulnerable enough to tell you that, and treat you like you deserve, that hurts. He knows why she left, knows why she never came back.

He’s mad at himself for letting her walk away.

“I’m sorry, but I hadn’t even planned on telling you I was back in the Commonwealth.”

“When you didn’t come back after Arcadia was taken care of, I figured that you weren’t coming back at all.”

She shrugs, and he knows he’s right. “I came back for Nick. You remember Dima?” Deacon nods, that had been a whole thing back at HQ. Desdemona had worried that Nick’s lack of memory might have been some sort of secret plot on the Institute’s side. She had fretted and worried over the information until Deacon had reminded her that the Institute was gone, and even though there were still some scientists left, that they didn’t have the resources to activate whatever secret sleeper agent she seemed to think Valentine was supposed to be. She sounded more like Tinker Tom than herself.

That had just been the start of her decline. Deacon wonders if she kept track of the Railroad’s members, if she heard about Des’ passing, if she grieved.

“Well, I managed to track down some more information about his missing memories. Actually,” she smiles, in the way that he learned means she’s proud of herself, “I found the storage drives, and set him up with an appointment with Amari so he can watch them if he wants to.”

Deacon wants to be proud of her, it couldn’t have been an easy task if it took her four years, but the pride is overshadowed by the deep hurt that’s been running through him ever since he found out that she kept his son from him. That it was his own inability to admit the truth that sent her running.

“That’s nice, I’m sure he’ll appreciate seeing you after all this time.”

Nora winces, flinching back from his words. “Actually, Nick comes to see me in Far Harbor pretty regularly. Maccready, Duncan, Nat, and Piper, too. And Curie.. well she was there for the birth.”

It feels like she just hit him in the chest with a supersledger. He’s seen Maccready a few times, helped him with Duncan before being in Sanctuary made him feel like he was suffocating. The man never mentioned seeing Nora, or knowing where she was. And he’s genuinely shocked to hear that Piper kept something secret. Although Maccready and her managed to keep their relationship from him for a lot longer than he’s willing to admit.

“I’m not sorry, I did what I thought was best. For me and Thomas.” Nora sighs. “But I am sorry that I didn’t reach out, that I swore our friends to secrecy. That I didn’t tell you that you were a dad.”

She frowns, looks like she’s thinking, and then glances up at him. “I guess I’m still scared to get hurt. But if you want, you can go talk to him. He… knows you’re his father, knows that I left, not you. He’s always wanted to meet you.”

Deacon’s taking a step forward, eyes on the threshold, before he’s even processing it, gets two steps forward before his brain catches up and stops him. Nora watches him fight with himself and he kind of hates it. Hates that she can read him this well after all these years, can still blow a hole in his walls without even trying. “I don’t… want to make things difficult for you, Nora.”

Laughter reaches his ears and he turns to look at her. It’s not happy laughter, more resigned, tired. “It’s a little late for that, Deeks.” The nickname slices into him, flays him open like a piece of meat ready to be barbecued. Immediately regret flashes across her features. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t okay for me to say. I don’t blame you, well, I do. But I’m not mad anymore. I mean-“ she rambles on for another couple of sentences before pausing.

She looks over at him, and suddenly they’re both bursting into laughter. The tension bleeds out of the room, leaving Deacon feeling younger and more full of energy than he has in a long time. By the time their laughter trails off, Nora’s got tears in her eyes and Deacon is smiling. She looks happy and relaxed, almost pleased to see him.

So of course he has to go and ruin it. “I missed you, you know. Even went to Far Harbor once to look for you.” Nora sucks in a breath and averts her eyes, taking a particular interest in the floor. “You weren’t there, and I had to leave before you came back. That would have been a few months after he was born.”

“I know, Allen told me a mainlander in sunglasses and a shitty wig came looking for me.” She smiles, not entirely genuine, but tinted with humor at least. “I figured there literally wasn’t anyone else it could have been.”

He thinks that that will be the end of it, but she continues. “I almost came back, had a bag packed and Thomas all bundled up for travel. But I couldn’t do it.”

There are hints of tears when she looks over at him. “I waited two weeks before I unpacked that duffle, walked down to the docks a dozen or more times. I turned around every time I imagined seeing you again. It hurt,” her voice drops to just above a whisper, “still does.”

“I-“ the confession on his tongue stops after the first word. Telling her that he loved her then, but was too cowardly to do anything might hurt her more. Even if he’s sure she knew. Telling her he’s still in love with her, thinks of her everyday, would willingly give his life if it kept her safe, might make her happy, or it might blow up the very thin rope crossing that their meeting has created. Their connection used to be as strong as concrete, the bridge bringing them together forged of the strongest metal. He decimated that bridge with his rejection, and she washed away the ashes with her departure. But could his confession strengthen them back, at least into a wooden walkway strong enough to hold them both? To hold their son?

“Just say it, Deacon. Your inability to tell me things is what got us into this mess.”

She’s right, he knows it. Knows he’s to blame for 90% of their failures, but losing her once almost killed him, could he lose her again? There’s only one way to find out.

“You’re right, I couldn’t admit that I loved you back then.” Nora’s jaw clenches, like she’s still fighting back tears. “But I did. I still do.”

Her eyes widen, just a fraction, but enough for him to know that she heard him, that she understands what he’s saying. “I love you, Nora. And I don’t deserve a second chance,” he laughs hollowly, “well, this would really be closer to my hundredth, wouldn’t it?” Softness takes over her face as he talks, but she’s still guarded against him. “But whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. You want me to walk out that door and never come back. I’ll do it.” He steps closer to her. “You want me around to help you with Thomas, but never anything more, I can do that.” Another step and now she’s right in front of him. “You want me to tell you how I feel every day until you get sick of hearing it. Show you off to the Commonwealth, the world. You want me to never tell another lie as long as I live?” The rest comes out on a whisper. “I’ll do it all.”

“Say it again.”

There’s no hesitation. “I love you.”

When she kisses him, all the fear and doubts don’t fall away, but they do fade into the background. He knows he’s got a lot of work to do. They’re not okay, not really even close. There’s wounds that he’s just ripped open that need to be closed. There’s more apologies to be made. He needs to prove to her that he can change, that he can be there. Needs to show her, not with his words which are usually tinged with lies, but with his actions that he won't hurt her again. Has to find a way to earn back her trust, even if he never lost her love.

He knows that he’s going to stumble, maybe fall. That he’ll spend the rest of his life making everything up to her. But he also knows that as long as Nora keeps believing in him that he’ll get back on his feet. There isn’t a thing in this world he won’t do.

For her and their son.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed please let me know, and feel free to check out some of the others fics I've posted.


End file.
